Mad Aunt Bernards Tortoise Poetry

"The page to come and visit for a fabulously sensible intake of poetry straight from the divinest of inspiration - and it's only a bit tortoisy. A cracking good read if you're under anaesthetic."Lord Elpus - The Guardian

Thursday, May 21

Aunt Vom's Poem From Worthing Nick

This is Aunt Vomica. She's the next sister below me. I am posting on behalf of her as she has been writing poetry to pass the time in Worthing nick after an altercation with an MP. We've always been close, but her behaviour is volatile and trying at times. Vom doesn't like our youngest sibling, Mary-Jaffa. It's because Mary-Jaffa is weak willed and delicate - she has a huge satsuma fear. So Vom pelts her with them at christmas and loves hiding them in her stocking. Mary-Jaffa faints, and the only thing that can bring her round is the smell of satsumas. Well, on waking, and being faced with a satsuma, she faints again. This goes on for months sometimes. It's a pain in the arse quite frankly but we love her dearly, you see.Anyway - this was the poem she sent me, apparently it's called 'MP Scum and Violence Pays'.

I'm stuck in Worthing nick,After lamping an MP.His manner evoked the sharpest angerWhich I demonstrated forthwith.He really took a liberty, expecting favours for free -He got a Glasgow Kiss,And a shoeing,And a bony knee in the knackers.I was furious, notwithstanding, and became outraged whenHe called the cozzers.The constabulary pulled us apart,MP shouted 'lunatic' and 'freak'.And I shouted 'Shut yer mouth, yer poncy twat' - which was not recieved well.I became upset, emotional and feminine. And wished I had a gun or a thunderflash.Then I remembered.I pulled forth a chinese throwing star from under my skirt.The filth didn't see that coming -Neither did he. Took his ear off.They said apologise, I said no.They said - APOLOGISE, and I said - NO.MP stood there and couldn't hear a bloody thing, bless him.Well, if you want to claim expenses for a second-duckpond-owlhospital-fairycave-parquetfloorforthefishbowl-eggcoddler-cricketersbox-wigforthemotherinlaw....that's up to you, robbing git.But don't expect a freebee from a woman on an innocent night out at the docks who's motto is 'Arse to all and I cheat at poker by spiking drinks'....Well, that explanation didn't help.I may be in the nick, and maybe MP thinks he's beaten me -But he's the one with the bruisesand the headache,and the limpand a nose like a Fruit Winder.And his expenses published on the internet.Aaahthankyou.

I really do think Aunt Vom would make a much better MP that that cheesy willy James Grey - the man really is a slime bucket. I think you ought to e-mail this to his constituency office, though I doubt if you'll find him embroiled in this expenses malarkey - he's knocking off enough rich women to but himself a parliamentary sub-committee. I'd call him a weasel, but I like weasels.

Hello Weev, Vom does the odd kissogram, and to be honest they're not the kind that are popular. Glasgow kisses and broken noses from ugly violent women are not that popular on stag nights....Raph! Hello - an MP in Trebollocks stands for Muggers of People. You probably don't have any in Camelopardalis as it is an honourable place.I like the idea of dear Aunt Bench on 'Bench Of The Week' though, I will look into it (with a long neck).

Mad! Mad! How so?I am afraid it escapes me why you should have taken up with such a monikerI can’t agree with Hens Teeth on three accountsOneThrowing such a star lower as suggested would miss all bodily contact as they have no danglers or backboneTwoI failed maths

Now that I have found you I shall have to come back, won’t I?

But so as not to give the wrong impression, I am not a complete eejit.I have had my adenoids out.

I would love you to come back! And the moniker is my birth name, given to me by my dear mother - Mrs Enid Buff-Orpington. They wanted something 'different'.Welcome, and don't worry about the maths. It's a grey area subject if you ask me!

Here is my pebble in the pool: The strangest blog I have ever seen (but I can see that you have heard that one before). I'm not poetic, I know nothing about tortoises and can only stand banjo for about 30 minutes at a time. But I like Monty Python. So I ought to fit in :-)

PS Thanks for the visit to my sheep (or rather, my cousins). That race is probably strictly Norwegian and would be abhorred to be translated (or wore:transposed) into anything foreign.

PPS The word verification was "spill", which in Norwegian means "play". Very fitting, I think.

Do you play " the beautiful game"You would look terrific with MABBO on the back of your jersey. I doubt anyone would ever see it under your habit, but I would know it was there.Of course! you could take it off if you scored, but the FA may paint you yellow and call you a card. This would look good on your CV and help to get work as an entertainer. You might consider persuading your team to adopt a tortoise as a mascot and maybe teach it some tricks like falling in the box. Naturally you would have to keep it in an open box or else film it from above, else like your shirt etc.....

Hello RuneE, nice to see you! I think I will have to try and post something fitting about sheep at some stage...I will get thinking...

Hello Yaff! I don't play the game, but I like rugby with my own rules. The best thing about the rules is that I don't tell anyone what they are...but a shirt with MABBO is a good idea. Falling in the box! I like that, I will certainly teach him and let you know what happens.

Flying Saucers??

Children in the 1800's were told that these stationary tortoises were 'flying saucers' that had simply broken down, and were allowed to work on them in their garages after school. They never got them started and were told by adults that they couldn't order the right parts.

Inclement Mood

Never tell a tortoise he has a 'wattly chin'. They get very upset and and are the fifth animal most likely to start road rage incidents.

-
*Precious Stones*
I made a pile of gems for every nation
Each stone was perfect truth, beyond compare
And then I sent each race an invitation
It said, “Ple...

3 years ago

Juan De La Vega

Juan De La Vega was very surprised when the tortoise, who'd been dormant for three hours, suddenly pounced and killed him on it's pointy horns. It apparently didn't like red rags, and didn't feel like 'coming out of his shell'.

Tortoise Day

Hoorah! Tortoise Day - Taken by Mrs Enid Rack of the Reptile Wives' Club

Tortoise Polo

Children became weary of this passtime, it never delivered the speeds it promised, and a proper mallet was never provided. It was a fib, perpetuated by adults - it was the flying saucers all over again.